


Ain't No Rest

by eldritchhorrorwriting (thesirensong)



Series: Zombvi and Andy (need to get to the point) [1]
Category: Sanders Shorts (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, M/M, first fic hell yeah, im really proud of this, please go easy on me lmao, shh it works, virgil is a zombie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27128935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesirensong/pseuds/eldritchhorrorwriting
Summary: Andy finally gets to have a conversation after two years of isolation. The fact that it’s with a zombie does not matter to him.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Thomas Sanders Shorts Anxiety Character | Andy Sanders
Series: Zombvi and Andy (need to get to the point) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982413
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Ain't No Rest

**Author's Note:**

> hey im ink, using caspers account with a pseud because we have the same body lmao
> 
> anyway here enjoy my writing i havent written in like years? at least not written and posted

“You know, having you follow me around everywhere is seriously shit when it comes to how bad I smell,” Andy said, looking towards the zombie that was slumped against the wall, its- his? His hands tucked into the filthy pocket of his hoodie.

The zombie didn’t respond, but he did look at him, one eye uncovered by the matted hair that hung over the other half of his face.

“You sure you can’t talk? You clearly have enough brain—”

The zombie narrowed his eyes into a glare and Andy had to resist the urge to snort harshly.

“Yeah, that was on purpose, shut up. You clearly have enough brain to think for yourself.”

Silence, as usual, making Andy sighed as he continued to rummage through the old bunker he’d managed to get into after the zombie—

“Seriously, not even a name? I can’t keep calling you “zombie” it’s been like two weeks of you following me around everywhere and showing me places with food and shit,” he muttered, lifting a can to his face so he could try and see if there was any sort of tampering with it in the dark, shifting backwards to try and get some light from the hole up above.

A grunt, and then, surprise, _more_ silence.

“You know that confirmed to me it probably wasn’t because of rotted vocal chords, right?”

Andy looked at the zombie, noting the way his mouth was pulled over his teeth in a smirk that resembled more of a grimace, in Andy’s opinion.

“Oh, you’re gonna be an asshole about this? Alright, fine. I’m naming you then.”

He rolled his eyes, and _oh_ Andy was going to give him the _dumbest_ name if he was going to be like that.

Okay, something that would get reaction…

Andy looked around the room, tossing the can in his hand up in the air while he thought.

“Betsy. I’m naming you Betsy.”

The zombie looked at him, his eyes narrowed again in an offended glare.

“What?” Andy asked, giving him a cheeky grin as he tossed the can a few more times before shoving it in his bag.

“A cow?”

His voice was hoarse, broken as if he hadn’t used it in years which… given he was dead that was probably accurate.

…It was hot as hell, if Andy was being honest with himself.

“No, a donkey, since you’re being an ass.”

Betsy rolled his eyes again, going silent again though now he was rubbing his throat with one hand.

“So, Betsy,” Andy started, grinning broadly when Betsy sighed and gave him an exasperated look, “how’d you lose that finger of yours?”

Pausing, Betsy pulled his hand from his throat to note the lack of a pinky, frowning slightly and his face scrunching up a bit in a mark of confusion as if he didn’t _remember_ losing his finger.

“Don’t know,” he mumbled, wiggling his fingers a bit before shrugging and sticking it back in his pocket.

“You don’t know how you lost an entire finger?” Andy asked, feeling a little incredulous at that concept.

Betsy raised an eyebrow at him, staying silent for several moments as if waiting for something to connect in Andy’s brain.

When Andy only shook his head at him, Betsy leaned his head back against the wall.

“Can’t exactly. Feel pain. When you’re dead.”

Okay, Andy felt a little stupid now.

“You know what, fair enough.”

Betsy chuckled, and Andy refused to admit to the way he shuddered at how _good_ that sounded with his broken, barely used voice.

He did _not_ have the hots for a zombie and he’d pummel anyone who tried to contradict that.

“Are you really just gonna let me call you Betsy?” he asked, deciding to distract his thoughts with a bit more conversation and resuming his search for more food.

“Why not? Don’t remember. My name.”

Andy stopped, looking at the can of carrots that was in his hand now, the label faded but he could barely make out the picture.

He hadn’t considered that. What would that be like? Losing so much of your identity because you got turned?

What would having a consciousness while you’re quite literally dead be like?

Humming, Andy shoved the carrots in his bag, deciding he didn’t want to dwell on that thought right now.

“How hard is it for you to talk anyway? You make a lot of pauses between words.”

Betsy grunted, prompting Andy to pause his inspection of cans to look back at him.

“Lungs don’t. Work well. When you’re dead.”

Andy nodded, watching Betsy for a moment longer while Betsy watched him.

What would it be like to kiss a zombie? Would he get turned?

 _No_ that is not a thought he’s going to entertain right now. Probably never.

Turning back to what he was doing, Andy finally let silence fall while he gathered enough canned food that would last him at _least_ a month if he rationed it right.

Especially since he was alone. Not everyone was lucky enough to have sentience after they turned.

“Why don’t you pick a name for yourself?” he asked, pulling the strings on his bag taut before slinging it over his shoulder and looking at Betsy with a raised eyebrow.

Betsy shrugged, shuffling over to the ladder and slowly starting to raise himself out of the bunker.

Andy followed him in silence, dusting himself off when he finally reached the top and keeping a close eye on Betsy while he watched him.

“Are you going back to not talking to me? Really?” he asked, deciding to wait in his walking back to his hideout to give Betsy a _look_.

“You want me. To talk that. Much?” he asked, smirking in a lopsided way that looked almost lopsided.

“Well when you’ve been on your own for two years you start craving conversation, even with the undead.”

Betsy grunted, shoving his hands in his grimy pocket again, Andy wincing on instinct when he heard the fabric rip.

“Virgil. Works. Saw it. In a book. Once.”

Andy nodded, turning in a small circle to get a better bearing on his location before setting off in a direction.

“Virgil’s a good name. Metal if you ask me, at least. Mine’s just because I hate Andrew but I can’t be bothered to come up with a new name so. Andy.”

Another grunt, and silence. Well, that’s fine, Andy could go back to talking for both of them for now.

Besides, with the reveal that Virgil could actually talk, it made for a lot more interesting friendship, in his opinion.

Plus he had to figure out how to purge the curiosity of kissing a zombie from his brain, he was _not_ going to put his lips on a literal corpse.


End file.
